The art of working with your hands... thoughts on all things that come from the heart and hands... meditations, spirit rattles, spirit dolls, memories, and positive intentions.

Monday, August 20, 2012

Transitions: The Coming of Autumn

I live in a place where there are four beautiful
seasons.For the last few days I have
begun to smell autumn in the air.The
windows are open and the rooms take on a fresh chill at night.I am beginning to think fuzzy fleece jackets
instead of T-shirts.I love autumn… BUT…
I am not a huge fan of winter.That
distinctive smell of autumn, which I can only describe as the scent of cold,
creates a certain amount of mourning and melancholy, grieving the final days of
summer.Summer is still officially here
and will be here for a month, but I can feel it pulling away from me.

This transition also has a lot to do with light.The light is leaving.The sun has packed its bags and headed for
the western horizon a few minutes earlier each night.This is great for parents.School will be starting soon and it is very
difficult to persuade children, who have played from early dawn until right
before the porch lights are switched on, that they need to be in bed while the
sun still shines.

But then there is summer.Summer was my childhood dream.I
lived back in the time when sheets were hung on cord lines anchored to tall T
shaped posts.A cloth bag hung on one of
the lines filled with wooden clothespins.Clothespins came in two types, the ones that you used to make people and
X shaped fences… and the other which was great for teasing and trying to pinch
your little brother.The best thing was
that I could disappear into a world of billowing white.I could wander between the sheets and smell
sunshine. I could rub the slightly coarse sheets on my cheeks, the roughness
due to being dried only by the light and the fresh warm breeze.

I remember getting up early in the morning and playing in the
fort made by crawling under the bedclothes draped over the end of my parents'
four poster bed.It was the perfect
place to hide and giggle with my brother.Wooden woven baskets were worn like turtle shells or when flipped back
over became our cars, boats, planes, or trains.We seemed to not mind spending time with our knees curled up to our
noses.

I don't think that many kids get to have the summers I
had.We had Moms in every house.We would make the rounds and get a cup of
Kool-Aid here, a piece of buttered bread sprinkled with sugar from the house
behind us, and maybe a chocolate chip or sugar cookie from the house next door.We ran free because everyone knew who we were,
where we belonged, and who to call if we picked someone's flowers or ran
through the neighbor's yard that was a no play zone.We knew the rules and followed them.If I didn't my Mom knew what I had done
before I even thought about doing it.

Maybe that is it.Maybe it is more than just the ending of summer.Maybe it is the ending of childhood… not only
mine but the childhood that most kids will never know.Too much need for daycare, too many organized
sports, too much busy, too many demands on parents and children to be over
achievers, to be smarter and brighter, and to be better or the best at anything
and everything they try to do.No room for failure, no room for trying
something new, and no time to learn from making mistakes.We need to create time to get in the mud and
get dirty and to climb a tree and feel it sway in the wind…

Yes, I can smell the cold.I can feel the change in the air and even though no childhood is
perfect… I think mine was as close as they come.So please take a deep breath, go outside, lie
on the grass and watch the clouds.Be a
child with wide innocent eyes and grab a little bit of peace and warmth before
the transition from summer to autumn falls into a pile of colored leaves and if
you have children… share it with your child or grandchild.